


You've Got a Knack for It

by Rimetin



Series: Overwatch: odds and ends [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Halloween comic reference, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Valkyrie suit, fashion designer Gabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rimetin/pseuds/Rimetin
Summary: "Are you sure about this?"Gabriel looks up from the schematics, brow quirked. "You got complaints, Doc?"She gives him a skeptical look. "It's… flashy."He jabs at her lightly with a holo-pen. "Says the woman who named it theValkyrie."Or, Angela makes the mistake of asking for Gabriel's help.





	You've Got a Knack for It

_"Ever think about making our real uniforms? You've got a knack for it."_

_His eyes flicker down to the large man lying on the floor, amidst the spilled sweets and splinters of the broken coffee table. He breathes out a small chuckle, skin by his eyes wrinkling. "Right. That'll be the day."_

_He doesn't notice the glint in her eye right after she's asked the question: a sure sign that she's musing on a new idea._

 

* * *

 

Gabriel rolls his shoulder as he steps through the automatic doors into the med bay. He fights the urge to sneer; the cold, clinical feel of the place makes his skin crawl. Although, he supposes, medical facilities aren't exactly meant to make you feel at home.

He snaps out of his musings at the sound of soft steps on the hard, spotless floor. Angela flashes him a smile, beckoning him closer. "Gabriel! Thank you so much for coming. Right this way."

He complies, watching her blond ponytail bob as she leads him past the waiting area, operating rooms, and into her small office. "Will you finally tell me what it is you supposedly need _my_ help with?"

She doesn't answer him, just sits down in front of her computer and pulls up a file. Gabriel steps closer and she rolls the chair a few inches to the side so he can have a better view. He places a hand on the table and leans closer, squinting to read the text. "This is…"

"It's something I've been working on. I call it the Valkyrie." Angela looks up at him, eyes glinting. He pretends not to notice, instead reading further. The medical jargon eludes him, but the idea is clear enough.

"It's a medical suit?"

"For the field. Yes." She turns back to the computer, scrolling and zooming around to show him her designs. "I've had the idea for quite a while now, but I've only just finalized the plan. This facility," she gestures behind her with one arm, "is all well and good, but we're international. It would be much better if we could treat troops in the field."

"If you could, you mean," he observes. The faintest amount of red colors her cheeks, but she answers his gaze levelly, neither confirming nor denying his words. He finds the determination on her face amusing: a strange warmth flickers in his chest. "So what exactly do you need me for?"

"Ah, well, I…" she straightens, face still determined though he senses a hint of embarrassment in her eyes. "Remember that Halloween party we had a few months back? I was hoping you could help me with the design."

Ah yes. He recalls her words from that night; what he had thought to be a throwaway line, a quip soon to be forgotten. He'd forgotten soon enough, at least.

_You've got a knack for it._

He meets her eyes, lips curling. "I'll see what I can do."

 

* * *

 

The _Valkyrie_ ( _it's just a work title_ , she's told herself about a hundred times, but by now she knows: it will stick) had been in development for close to a decade. Angela can hardly believe it now, working long hours to finally complete it: her dream since medical school, her pride and joy, made reality. All her work and research on biotics and nanotechnology combined with Overwatch's resources. Only—

"Are you sure about this?"

Gabriel looks up from the schematics, brow quirked. "You got complaints, Doc?"

She gives him a skeptical look. "It's… flashy."

He jabs at her lightly with a holo-pen. "Says the woman who named it the _Valkyrie_."

She can't help the blush creeping to her cheeks. He's right, of course, but this isn't exactly what she had in mind. She decides to hide behind a deep sigh, turning away to compose herself. "Fine. I suppose you're the expert."

"Not really," he hums, eyes following her. "Besides, _angelita_ , you had to know what you were getting into asking me to do this."

She feels her cheeks burning up again as she takes the few steps to fill her mug with coffee from the thermos brought to her office. Even after weeks, she still doesn't know if the nickname – the whole… thing, in fact – is an insult or something else.

The holo-pen makes soft clicking sounds as Gabriel resumes making tweaks to their shared design. The process has been less smooth than Angela anticipated; she admits she knows nothing of tailoring, but Gabriel has been demanding. What materials to use, how to integrate all the features she needs, how to streamline the performance of the suit. Somehow, they've arrived at an understanding. For the most part.

"Mercy."

She starts, turning back to face him. "Pardon?"

He doesn't look up from the design, busy writing something. "If you're going to be working the field, you need a code name. Mercy."

She crinkles her brow, setting her cup down on the table. "I didn't think you used codenames. Will that really be necessary?"

She sees his lips twitch in a quiet, sharp laugh (something she will later learn he does only in regards to one person in particular). "It's a thing we're trying out. Maybe it'll stick."

"Hm." She's not convinced, but decides to drop the subject. She picks her cup up again and takes a sip. "Mercy?"

Finally, he looks at her, brown eyes glinting. "Angel of mercy. It seemed," his eyes flicker to the design, where he's finished sketching out the mechanical wings, "fitting."

Angela laughs. "You planned for this."

Gabriel hums in amusement. "Maybe."

**Author's Note:**

> I have accepted I will never finish whatever this was supposed to become, therefore it shall become another odd and end. 
> 
> What was it supposed to be? Well... longer, for starters. And shippier. Actual Gabercy (as I call it), not this kinda-still-professional-stuff. There was a whole thing spanning many years of original Overwatch and slowburn relationship progression all the way up to the Swiss incident, maybe after. That's also why I included the shippy relationship tag; the undertones are there, and they are intentional. Who knows, maybe I'll get off my ass and write the whole thing sometime.
> 
> But the reason that isn't happening now is that lore that's been revealed since I started working on this contradicts pretty much everything I had planned (like Mercy having always been in the field with the Caduceus etc., as seen in Uprising) and it's seriously blocking me. So for now let's just enjoy this as is: my take on the Halloween comic snippet that made everyone think Gabe was a fashion designer.


End file.
